


The Sexual Exploits of Hermione Granger and Friends

by Niektete (therealfroggy)



Series: Mating Magic Trilogy [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bed hopping, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/Niektete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third and final instalment in the <em>Mating Magic</em> trilogy. The Weasley twins are still trying to perfect the Mating Magic, and this time they experiment on everyone. Not canon-compatible, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sexual Exploits of Hermione Granger and Friends

“Hurry up, you twat!”

“Shut your gob, or you'll wake her up.”

“There, all set. Let's go.”

“How long, d'you reckon?”

“The last batch lasted twelve hours. I'd say thirteen this time round, with the clover.”

“I'm going for eleven; I still think it was a bad idea to put the clover in. Bet?”

“Definitely. Loser has to watch as winner shags Hermione?”

“Sounds like a plan. Come on, let's pretend to be asleep when mum comes in to wake us up.”

***

Hermione yawned as she found herself a seat at the breakfast table. It seemed she was the last one down, for once; she'd been up late the previous night, reading a few interesting articles in Arithmancy Today. She looked around to greet everyone – and almost bit her tongue off.

Harry was staring resolutely at his bacon, his cheeks flaming red, and he was sitting on his hands. Ron's eyes were closed, and he already had a good deal of food around his mouth – his forkful of scrambled eggs missed his mouth by a few inches, seeing as he wasn't looking at what he was doing. Ginny was biting her knuckles (it looked quite painful; her skin was turning red below her white teeth) and looking with obvious longing at Harry.

Hermione knew, as a frisson of desire went through her at the sight of Harry and Ron, that there had been foul play. She recognized the power of the Mating Magic as her body pulsed with lust for her two friends, and when she saw Harry squeeze his eyes shut when the door opened, she understood.

“The twins.”

The three other people at the table looked at Hermione, and that was it. Ron grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her, Harry opened his mouth but was interrupted by Ginny who forced her tongue into said oral cavity, and Hermione found she didn't mind Ron's kiss at all.

_Ooh, that's nice, Ronald; learned how to kiss, have we? Mm, give me some sugar, as the Americans say..._

“Good morning, all!”

_Oh, no! That voice! That playful yet gruff voice, accompanied by the scent of a real man in tight shirts and snug jeans..._

Sirius.

Hermione tore herself from Ron, who began licking her neck, and was about to warn Sirius not to come into the room – but it was too late. She'd seen him, and Ginny had seen him, and Sirius himself? He'd seen them. And it was obvious from his tenting jeans and open-mouthed expression of surprise that he was under the spell, too.

“I'll be blowed,” Sirius said, his gaze heated as he took in Hermione and Ginny's sleepwear (they regularly lounged about in their nightgowns till noon when they were on holiday at Grimmauld Place).

“Why, yes, you will be,” Hermione said, feeling her body heat up even more. “Ron, want to shag me while I defend my Head Girl title to Sirius?”

That drew a collective groan from everyone around the table. Ginny looked from Sirius to Harry, seemingly confused, while Harry's eyes skipped from his girlfriend to his best friend with a growing gleam of panic. Ron was ogling Hermione, but then he turned to Sirius – and his jaw dropped.

“'Mione,” he said, his voice strangely strained. “I think I might be bi.”

Hermione would have laughed if she hadn't been so aroused. She caught Sirius' confused look, but ignored it. “Ron,” she said, her own voice too husky for recognition. “Get in the pantry. Sirius, you too. I think Ginny and Harry will need the kitchen table.”

Then she herded both Ron and Sirius into said pantry, drew the door shut behind them, and threw her dressing gown to the floor. It took her about two seconds to remove her nightgown, and before it had hit the floor, she demanded, “Fuck me. Now.”

Sirius moved quickly; he was on her before she'd finished the last syllable. With his tongue in her mouth and his hard body pressed against hers, Hermione could almost forget that she was very, very angry with the Weasley twins. Almost.

“Ron,” she gasped, tearing her mouth from Sirius', “undo your trousers. Quickly.”

Then she tore open Sirius' jeans, shoved them down, and pulled on his shoulder. Sirius got the hint and sat down at the pantry's floor, and Hermione followed him, kneeling over his legs. She was on all four, about to take Sirius into her mouth, when she realized Ron wasn't following.

“Ron,” she moaned, so close to what she wanted – naked men. “Get on your knees behind me and bloody give me something!”

Ron hastened to obey, and just as he thrust into her, Hermione heard Ginny squeal in delight from the vicinity of the kitchen table. She laughed and leaned down to take Sirius into her mouth as well, sucking until he cursed and then applying her tongue to the underside.

_God, yes! Oh, Merlin, Ron feels so good! And Sirius; his taste is amazing! I can't believe how much I want this; oh goodness! Yes!_

“Harder,” she whimpered, but Sirius' hard cock somewhat muffled her voice so she doubted Ron would have heard her. Still, he was pounding into her, with no finesse but lots of enthusiasm, and Hermione couldn't hold off any longer. The Mating Magic not only made her desperately needy, it also gave her the best orgasms she'd ever had.

“Yes!”

Her eyes rolled back in her skull as Ron's fingers dug into her hips; she was shivering around him and then she heard him grunt and knew he'd just come inside her. With that knowledge in mind, she figured she had to bring Sirius off quickly before she got all needy again and lost her focus.

“Hermione, don't -” Sirius began, but Hermione ignored him and sucked harder at the very tip of him. With a hoarse cry, Sirius spent himself in her mouth, and Hermione swallowed eagerly.

_Oh, score!_

“What. The hell. Is going on here?”

Hermione released Sirius' still twitching cock and looked behind her, one hand pulling her riotous hair out of her eyes. There, framed comically by the onions and red peppers hanging around the pantry's door, stood Lupin. Staring at them like he'd never seen naked flesh before.

_Ooh, the sexy werewolf! And here I am, already bent over. Come here, wolfie boy; take advantage! I want you to!_

“Moony, it's not... fuck, it's exactly what it looks like, but I can explain. I think...” Sirius trailed off, blushing like mad but still sitting there – his softening cock poking out from his undone jeans, his t-shirt rumpled and his hands still tangled in Hermione's hair.

Hermione felt desire build once more and tried smiling seductively at Lupin, but found her vision soon blocked by Ron's semi-clothed backside. He was standing in front of Lupin, gaping at the older man.

“Blimey, when did you get handsome?” the redhead said tactlessly.

Hermione giggled, but it turned into a breathy moan as Sirius caressed her scalp playfully. She turned back to face him, and he was grinning self-consciously at her.

“I think I know what got into you that day when I shagged you in Molly and Arthur's room,” Sirius laughed. “Well, I don't know _what_ , but I think I know how you felt.”

“Feel,” Hermione corrected him, moving to sit astride him – deciding to ignore Lupin for the time being. “It's Mating Magic; it's a Weasley product. We've all got it. And Merlin, Sirius, I think I'll be needing another round rather soon.”

“Moony, either get down here or get out,” Sirius groaned, and Hermione could feel his prick beginning to stir between her thighs – she was sitting in his lap, after all. “I'm going to shag 'Mione daft, and if you're not going to help, you might as well sod off.”

Lupin didn't reply. Hermione looked around to see if he'd gone, but he was still there – pressing Ron up against the door, his lips locked to those of the younger man. His arms were fencing Ron's body in, and heavens, where had he been hiding those biceps?

“Oh,” Hermione moaned, then turned around so she was straddling Sirius with her back to him. “I've got to see this!”

Sirius gave a bark of laughter, and then Hermione felt a hand on her hip. The other, it seemed was occupied with... helping himself _rise_ to the occasion. Ron groaned in the back of his throat, Lupin replied with a sound like a wolf's growl. Hermione yielded to Sirius' hand on her skin and sank down on him, whimpering in relief as he filled her, stretched her, made her throb with pleasure.

“What's going on?” Lupin panted, even as he began shoving his own trousers down. Ron was already there, his bare hips rutting in a primal rhythm against Lupin's hip. “Why... I can't... Fuck, Ron, turn around!”

Hermione, rocking wildly in Sirius' lap, reached behind her neck and pulled the dark-haired man close to kiss her neck. She couldn't take her eyes away from Ron, leaning against the door frame, and Lupin, stroking his cock with some glistening substance.

_Is that... Merlin! He's about to fuck Ron! Oh, God, I'm about to orgasm while watching Ron being deflowered!_

“Bloody get on with it,” Ron stuttered, and Hermione reached a blinding climax just as Lupin growled and moved in on her friend. She cried out, her hands fisting in Sirius' ruffled hair, and convulsed around him as her sight turned fuzzy around the edges with pleasure.

When she managed to open her eyes again, Sirius was moaning in her ear and Ron was moaning into the door frame. Lupin was moving against him with slow circles of his hips, whispering something in Ron's ear that made the redhead grunt happily and push back. Their hips bared, all Hermione could see were their flanks pressing together repeatedly, but she knew very well what was going on and it made her blood race.

_As if I wasn't already having a heart attack! Oh, fuck it, I've had two orgasms in about ten minutes and now there's free gay porn, as if I wasn't already doomed. Fred and George are going to pay; I'm going to skin them alive!_

“Tonks!”

Lupin had bit down on Ron's shoulder, but it was his muffled voice that called the wrong name. Hermione bit back a giggle. Really? Calling someone else's name? She supposed it was inevitable, the two of them being a pair, but still...

_Poor Ron. And this being his first time, too._

Behind her, she could feel Sirius go lax. He was apparently finished, too. Just as Hermione was about to get off him, she heard Ron's grunt of orgasm (he did it every time; Hermione normally didn't care for the sound but when he was being shagged by another man... well.) and looked up to find him and Lupin slumped against the door frame, both panting like mad dogs.

Hermione did her level best not to laugh as she quickly pulled her dressing gown back on. It was just so wrong; Lupin and Ron, her and Sirius, Ginny and Harry on the table... at the same time, no less! But the Mating Magic was to blame; she knew the twins must have somehow gotten it on everyone's eyelids.

She grabbed her wand and cast a Cleaning Charm on herself, then turned to face Sirius. He was yawning, apparently ready to go to sleep just where he was.

“I suggest you go to your room,” Hermione giggled, then smiled at the three men still recovering in the pantry and left quickly. She most decidedly did _not_ look at Harry's bare arse as she passed him and Ginny, still locked in a tight embrace on the kitchen table.

_Thank Merlin the mother hen herself has left the pen; I don't think she'd ever recover from the shock she'd get at seeing this._

Both Molly and Arthur were gone for the day; though they were all visiting at Grimmauld Place, Arthur had gone in to work and Molly had declared she would spend a relaxing day shopping. Hermione just hoped the twins hadn't put the Mating Magic on their eyelids as well, or there would be a blizzard in hell before anyone could ever look anyone in the eye again.

_Speaking of eyes, did Harry's eyes always look that green? And what about Lupin; that grey gaze could run me over any time!_

Realizing her sense and sanity had fled the moment she'd laid eyes on Harry, Ron and Sirius earlier that morning, Hermione did the only thing she deemed safe – she headed for the library. Nobody else ever went there, and if all else failed, she could always stare resolutely at a book and claim she was reading and didn't want to be disturbed.

Perhaps there was even a spell in a book somewhere that could counter aphrodisiac products. In her current state, Hermione was willing to try anything.

_Not that I don't enjoy it – Merlin, I do! I just can't get enough of men trying to shag me senseless. But I know Snape doesn't like it when I shag Sirius, and I was hoping to get an owl from him soon... Honestly, how long does it take to reply to,_ Shag Hermione? Yes or no? _I mean, it's not like he's writing an essay. And he shags like a divine creature! Oh, that nose, those hands! That voice! I could just... Mm._

Hermione locked the door, threw herself down on the sofa, and put her mind to work. Since they were all acting like dogs in heat from the moment they saw each other in the morning – and the clock hadn't even struck ten – the Mating Magic must have been applied before breakfast, and since (apparently) none of them remembered putting the stuff on themselves, it must have happened while they were all asleep.

And nobody had escaped, meaning the Weasley twins were either mad as hatters or trying to play everyone a prank. Or they could be testing the product on a large scale. Whatever their reason, they obviously hadn't spared anyone, and Hermione was just trying to remember how long the effects had lasted the last time when she heard a sharp cry from the hallway, followed by that obnoxious painting screaming its head off.

She ran to the door, wondering who could be so stupid as to shout in front of that painting. Could it be Tonks, showing up only to find her boyfriend shagging his former pupil in the pantry? Or – heavens forbid – the Weasley matriarch, discovering her daughter spread out on the kitchen table with Harry enthusiastically shagging her?

“Shut up, you old hag! I'll kiss whomever I bloody like!”

“Not if you want to live, Weasley. Lupin, what is the meaning of this? Why is this imbecile – Lupin! Touch me again and I shall hex your bollocks off!”

Hermione laughed delightedly, setting off down the stairs at an eager pace. She knew that voice, and it had made her come too often over the past three weeks for her to stay calmly locked in the library. Especially when it was threatening Lupin and Ron with magical castration.

_And I've got to see Ron trying to molest Snape! Lupin, now that would be hot, but Ron? Snape would have his guts for garters! Probably will, at that, unless I get there first..._

She came to a halt at the last landing and stopped to take in the spectacle, giggling quietly. Snape had his wand trained on Lupin and Ron, his face white and his lips pressed angrily together. He looked at them as if they were dogs foaming at the mouth; this, in Lupin's case, wasn't too far from the truth – he was looking at Snape as if the latter were a juicy deer and he was about to transform.

Lupin and Ron were looking at Snape with obvious desire, but even as they leered at the Potions Master, they were seemingly subconsciously groping each other every other second. Their hair and clothing were in disarray and their cheeks were flushed; Hermione could see that the deflowering of Ron had not lessened the Mating Magic's effect in the slightest.

Hermione's hysterical giggle brought all the focus back to her. Lupin and Ron suddenly seemed unsure of whom to ogle first, and Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

_Ooh, he's doing the eyebrow trick! Oh, do it again, Professor; I think I need a lesson! I've been_ gallivanting _around with other men again; aren't you going to punish me? Look at his shoulders; they're so broad and... angular! I just need... Ooh... must... have... Snape!_

Ignoring how handsome Ron looked with sex written all over him, and how Lupin's biceps bulged when he gripped Ron's arse with a hungry look on his face (she tried ignoring this, she really did), Hermione ran down the last flight of stairs and grabbed Snape's shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him fiercely.

_Merlin, he tastes so good! And he looks even better; he's just so... so... delectable!_

“Miss Granger,” Snape said, his voice somewhat less of a menacing dungeon than it usually was. “What in Merlin's arse is going on here?”

“Come shag me in the library first so I can explain,” Hermione moaned, then bit his earlobe (she could barely reach, standing on her toes) for emphasis. “It's the Mating Magic. I need... need to get it out of my system.”

Snape grabbed her, whirled her around and held her arms firmly to her sides, holding her still so she couldn't accost him again. “You mean to tell me, Miss Granger, that you've used that rubbish again?”

“No, sir,” she purred, pushing back against Snape and loving the way his breath hissed between his teeth as her bum pressed against his hip. “The Weasley twins, they put it on us. All of us. Ron and Lupin are apparently bisexual, and Sirius is in the pantry, and Ginny and Harry -”

“Enough, Miss Granger. I understand. This thrice-damned house is apparently even less fit for habitation than ever. Come with me,” he rumbled in her ear, and then they were out on the steps and Snape Apparated them away.

Hermione gasped as she found herself in a luxurious bedroom, a big four-poster bed decorated in tasteful dark blue dominating the décor. Before she had time to turn around, Snape was kissing her neck from behind, muttering into her ear.

“Am I given to understand that you require... assistance, Miss Granger, before being able to explain yourself?”

“Merlin, yes!” Hermione grinned, then turned around and undid the belt of her dressing gown – she was still naked underneath it. Letting the fabric flutter to the floor behind her, she smiled slyly up at her former professor and added, “And call me Hermione... sir.”

Hermione had discovered, on a previous occasion, that Snape not only liked it when she called him Severus (which had been somewhat of a surprise, since the dark, brooding man was always so formal), he also had a kink for playing the student-professor game. He began disrobing quickly, nodding at the bed.

“Lie down on the bed, Hermione, and touch yourself. I want you ready for me before I've unbuttoned my trousers.”

Hermione moaned at his deep voice and did as he said, climbing onto the bed. The bedspread was silk and she shivered as the material dragged underneath her when she shifted. Pausing only to see how naked Snape had gotten, she immediately followed his orders and slid a hand down to touch herself.

_Like I need it; seeing him this handsome turns me into the bloody Amazon river. Oh, good, he's almost there... Little more... Yes! There we go. Hello, Professor! Is that a stirring rod in your shorts or are you just happy to see me?_

No sooner had he discarded his last layer of clothing – discreet charcoal boxer shorts – than he joined her on the bed, looking at her with a mocking sneer twisting his upper lip. Even that looked sexy to Hermione, and she whimpered and reached for him as he rolled on top of her.

“I don't even want to contemplate who's had access to your body when you're in this state, Hermione, but it is obvious you couldn't have controlled yourself if given the opportunity to... _get laid_... even if the only man present was Black,” Snape hissed, moving in between her spread legs.

“It's... it's not my fault, sir,” Hermione moaned, simultaneously delighted and infuriated at how slowly he was dragging his fingers through her wetness. “It's the, the Mating Magic. Sir, please! I need you so much right now!”

“Very well. We will discuss your punishment later.”

Then he thrust into her, not giving her a second's pause to adjust until he was buried fully within her. Hermione keened with pleasure and grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin just where she knew he liked it.

“Oh, yes, sir! More!”

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off his face as he began fucking her, despite the pleasure running along her skin and making her eyes want to roll again. She watched his heated eyes, his cheeks ruddy with the exertion of pounding into her, and the way his mouth fell just half an inch open when he concentrated on... on...

“Severus!” she screamed, coming hard as soon as he touched her clit. She pulled him closer to her, burying her face in his neck, needing him on her as delightful waves of ecstasy rolled over her. She gasped for breath, but found her mouth occupied as Snape kissed her, his tongue skating lasciviously over her palate.

_Oh God, where's he learnt that? Oh, oh, OH!_

“One,” Snape said, raising his head from hers. With a wicked smirk, he sat back on his haunches and pulled her right leg onto his shoulders – still hard inside her. His hips rocked minutely as he looked into her eyes, and then his hand slid slowly, slowly down her leg until his fingers were hovering mere inches from where they were joined.

_One? What the bloody hell does he mean by one? Isn't he going to call me Hermione and kiss me again? I know the numbers; I don't sodding well care if he does, too! But oh, Merlin, those eyes! That nose! He's so bloody attractive, and I don't care if that's only the Mating Magic speaking, if he'll just..._

“Touch me,” she whimpered, perpetually aroused by the mere sight of him.

Snape not only complied, but began thrusting again. His prick felt bigger in her after her (most) recent orgasm, but that couldn't account for how absolutely exquisite that particular position felt. Hermione moaned and her head thrashed on the pillow.

“Yes, yes, God, oh, harder! Please, sir, I want...”

She wasn't sure exactly what she wanted, as long as it involved orgasms, but he was an intelligent man; surely he would get the message.

“Call me Severus, Hermione.”

“Severus,” she whimpered, writhing under his touch. “Please, make me come again!”

Snape groaned and pressed his finger down, rubbing her clit with determination. Hermione felt pleasure spiral up her spine, gasped as her body seemed to contract for a heartbeat – and then screamed as she came again; screamed his name and arched into his touch.

This time her eyes did roll back in her skull.

“Two,” Snape grunted, his hips bucking erratically as he neared his own climax. “Hermione! Fuck, Hermione!”

Hermione could feel the moment he exploded in her, and shuddered in sated arousal as he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily into her skin. That wonderful, overly large nose nuzzled against her neck, and Hermione sighed and put her arms around him once more.

_Don't care that this is soppy. Really don't. He'll spank me and shag me again later if I ask; I really, really don't care that this is almost... romantic. Which it isn't, of course; I just think that because of the Mating Magic. Really._

“Hermione,” Snape panted, his dark chocolate voice tickling her mind and making it consider getting horny again, “how long does the Mating Magic last?”

Hermione vaguely recalled she'd told him about it the first time they shagged; she felt some explanation had been in order after she'd been begging for him to fuck her again and again for no apparent reason. But she hadn't tried it – or any other Weasley product – since, and so could only guess at its duration. After all, when Snape had _helped_ her that first time, she'd been so busy getting shagged that she hadn't noticed the exact time it wore off.

“I'd say around twelve hours, give or take an hour or so. That's how long it took last time, I think,” she answered, wondering if she shouldn't try and make him spank her again after all. It was more fun than she would ever have imagined. “They could have put it on my eyes at any time between two-thirty and nine this morning.”

“Then I should have adequate time to provide you with just as many orgasms,” he said, and his voice was full of dark amusement. “The count stands at two.”

“Not if you count the ones Ron and Sirius gave me,” Hermione said, biting her lip guiltily as she looked up at him. “Will you handcuff me to the bed, sir, or shall I?”

Snape looked at her, his eyes darkening at first. “Weasley... and Black?”

“They were there when I discovered the... effects of the gel, sir,” Hermione said, trying to sound contrite. She really did, honest! “They rather surprised me.”

“And a lovely surprise it must have been.”

Hermione whipped her gaze towards the door. Of all people who could have come waltzing in on her when she was trying to have a serious ( _Hee hee, or is that Sirius?_ ) discussion with Snape, the one standing in the doorway was the very last she could have imagined.

Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.

“What's he doing here?” Hermione hissed, reaching for the covers to try and cover herself up. Snape was in the way, and so she settled for trying to look dignified, despite lying naked under Snape and smelling of sex.

Snape smirked down at her. “I'm afraid he should be asking _you_ that question, Miss Granger. This is his house, after all.”

Hermione could only gape at Snape for a moment. Then she shoved him off her, grabbed the only thing she could reach – a large pillow – and held it defensively in front of herself as she sat up, desperately wishing she'd thought to put her wand closer to the bed rather than leave it in the dressing gown.

“His house?”

“Welcome to Malfoy Manor, I suppose,” Malfoy said, smirking at her with an uncanny resemblance to Snape's own expression. “I suppose it's a little late to offer you tea.”

Snape chuckled, and Hermione stared at him.

_I didn't know he chuckled. Wait, hang on, have I seen Malfoy properly before?_

In hindsight, Hermione realized the only reason she hadn't immediately thrown herself at Malfoy was because the shock of seeing him there rather drowned out the effects of the Mating Magic. But as her racing blood slowly regained its normal flow and her breathing evened out somewhat, she looked at Malfoy with spell-affected eyes – and that, she had to admit, was that.

“Voldemort seems to have had surprisingly good taste,” Hermione muttered, looking feverishly at the apparent owner of the bed she'd just been shagged in. He had long, silvery blonde hair that was tied back with a black band, and his features were aristocratic and elegant. His eyes – icy blue and cold – made Hermione's desire fire right back up.

“Why are Death Eaters so outrageously sexy?”

Snape laughed properly at that; he sat up next to her and playfully ( _Holy Merlin, since when did Snape do playful?_ ) pushed a few strands of her wild hair from her face, laughing like he'd heard a perfectly good joke. Then he pried the pillow away from her, an easy task considering how busy Hermione was with staring at Malfoy, and gave her a little push in the small of the back. Hermione immediately sat up straight, and Malfoy seemed to suddenly take an interest in her breasts.

“I suppose you and your over-active brain are wondering what we're doing at Malfoy Manor?” Snape said in her ear, and the dark chocolate dipped in caramel and drizzled itself with rum.

“Don't care,” Hermione replied, her voice more breath than sound. “Fuck me. Now. Malfoy can watch.”

That caused their host to throw his head back and laugh uproariously. “My, my, what a little minx she is, Severus. You never told me she was this _shameless_.”

“Oh, you haven't seen half of it,” Snape said darkly, and then, hissing the words softly into her ear, “You'd even let him join us, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, subconsciously rocking her hips back and forth in a search for friction. “Yes, sir, I would, as long as somebody would just _fuck me_...”

_Who cares if he was a Death Eater? So was Snape! Malfoy was exonerated; he might be a right bastard but he's probably a god in the sack! How else would he have kept that wife – and all those mistresses – for years?_

Snape pushed on her shoulders until she was kneeling on all fours, her backside pushed high as she gripped the blue bedspread in anticipation. Then he was behind her, and his fingers found her clit again, starting to rub it slowly.

“Oh, _sir_ ,” Hermione purred, bucking back a little onto his fingers.

“Having a hard time giving up your academic status, old boy?” Malfoy said, arching an eyebrow at Hermione as she mewled and shuddered under Snape's ministrations.

“No, but she is,” Snape said from behind Hermione, and her mouth fell open as his fingers found a particular angle that was just _divine_! “Are you getting undressed, or would you prefer to fuck her mouth and then leave?”

Malfoy began undressing, and Hermione didn't bother trying to close her mouth.

_Hubba hubba! How did a man his age get a stomach like that? I could build a house of cards on it! And look at that collar bone; I wonder if he'll let me lick molten chocolate off that? Ooh, there we go, he's removing his trousers... nicely tailored trousers, by the way... holy cow!_

“There are no animals of the bovine persuasion here, Miss Granger,” Snape said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Not even holy ones.”

Hermione realized she had exclaimed that last part out loud, but didn't much care – not when Malfoy was standing naked in front of her, slowly stroking himself as he watched Snape, well, finger her, she supposed.

“Have you even asked the girl if she's game for this?” Malfoy asked casually.

“No,” Snape said, and his voice was gravelly with lust. “She's been spreading her legs for anything that moves; I assume she would have protested long ago if she wasn't up to her usual standards of bed-hopping.”

Hermione's lust-clouded mind suggested that she take offence at such a statement, but she was rather busy ogling Malfoy and trying not to lose her mind over Snape's touch, so she ignored it for the time being. She knew it wouldn't do much good to think before the Mating Magic wore off, and at any rate, she didn't want to.

_When they're this hot, I don't care that men are dogs. I'll let them shag me and then call them swine and leave. But shag first; definitely. Ooh, yes, Professor! Now, what's this? Why, yes, Malfoy, you swine; you may bring that thing over here right away so I can have a go at it._

Hermione reached out and closed her hand around Malfoy's erection, then guided him closer until she was holding him steady an inch or so from her lips. She turned her head back to look at Snape, then grinned at him.

“I wouldn't worry about date rape if I were you, sir. I would, however, get on with shagging me. This instant. Or I might have to leave and find Sirius again,” she said.

“Mention him again, Miss Granger, and I will chain you to the bed and leave you here until the Mating Magic wears off by itself,” Snape snarled, then pressed his cock to her opening, just enough to let her feel him. “Alone.”

Hermione whimpered, pressing back to try and get him inside her. After a few pleas of “Please, sir!” he complied, sinking into her slowly.

“Merlin, yes,” she sighed, then turned her gaze back to Malfoy. “Feel free to take advantage... Malfoy.”

Malfoy smirked down at her, holding his cock to her lips and rubbing it over them a few times before answering. “Do call me Lucius, my dear. Not that you'll be able to talk much...”

_No, indeed! The Malfoy family jewels are certainly nothing to scoff at, and the accessories are even better! Mm, bring that here, big boy... man... whatever. Huh, he tastes different than Sirius. Not that I'm complaining; I'll swallow anyway. Ooh, there we go!_

Snape had begun moving his hips against hers in slow, hard, deep thrusts. Hermione moaned around the cock in her mouth and began bobbing her head, her tongue stroking firmly against the head whenever she reached it. This was heaven! Men, naked and wanting her, fucking her, claiming her... Making her feel like a sex object, which she quite liked.

And of course, the Mating Magic, keeping her wanton and completely slutty for hours.

_How can it get any better than this? Oh, Malfoy, you bad man, no fair holding my head... Ah, that's better. Fist hair, yes._

“Mm,” she agreed around the hard flesh in her mouth, bobbing her head eagerly. Ooh, and there Snape did that thing with his hips and his fingers in synch...

_Heaven, I tell you!_

“Sweet Circe, Severus; this one knows what she's doing!” Malfoy said, his voice strained. Hermione sucked harder on his prick, and he groaned. “Good girl!”

“Don't get any ideas, Lucius; I only share because I've got an excess of the goods on demand,” Snape grunted, and his voice was in no better condition than Malfoy's. He shoved into her harder and Hermione cried out – muffled though her voice was.

“Ah, a potion,” Malfoy stuttered, still fucking between Hermione's lips.

“A sodding Weasley product!” Snape exclaimed, his hands digging into Hermione's hips. “Not... a potion. Oh, bollocks, Hermione, stop that!”

Hermione clenched her muscle again, ignoring his command. So he thought of her as goods, did he? Not that she had any romantic notions about him, either, but at least she considered him human. And she let him shag her. Perhaps she should hold back on his spanking privileges...

“Hermione!” Snape gasped, as she pushed back against him and clenched, all but forgetting the cock in her mouth. “Stop that or I'll -”

“Or you'll come in me, sir,” Hermione purred, releasing a somewhat disgruntled Malfoy from between her lips. “Do it. I want you to come in me, mark me with your come.”

She had a very good memory and even in her lust-crazed state, she knew what turned him on to no end. He'd told her so the first time he'd had her. _There is nothing more desirable to a man in this world than seeing a woman marked by his come._

_And lookit, lookit, that worked like a charm!_

Snape moaned as if in defeat; his body went rigid against hers and then she could feel him twitch in orgasm. His grunts and groans in her ear wreaked havoc on her already horny mind; she was just glad the only thing she could actually _see_ , was Malfoy's cock, or she would have been even more desperate.

“Would you mind, Hermione?” Malfoy said, his voice somewhat edgy.

“That's Miss Granger to you,” Hermione said, then grinned up at Malfoy and sucked hard, not relenting until he cried out in a surprisingly delicate manner and spurted hot, salty liquid onto her tongue. Hermione swallowed, licking her lips to make sure she got it all. She was determined to acquire that taste, and she considered herself halfway there.

Not until after she'd swallowed Malfoy's come did Hermione realize that in her vindictive desire to make them both come, she'd rendered both of them quite useless to her. There were limits, after all, to how many hurrahs a man had in him for one day.

_Damn. Oh, sod it all, I'll get myself a vibrator and take care of business, then not look at anyone else before this stuff's worn off. It's the looking that does it, after all; if I could just find a way not to look at anyone for the rest of the day..._

“Ever the impetuous Gryffindor,” Snape snarked form behind her, and Hermione did her best not to listen to that verbal sex. “If you hadn't been so hasty, Miss Granger, we could both have assisted you in obtaining relief from the Mating Magic's effects. Now it seems you will have to do with one.”

“What, do you mean to say that I can't provide her with a little _relief_?” Malfoy panted, hands still fisted in Hermione's hair. “I just need a quick nap and a glass of scotch, that's all.”

“Shut up, Lucius; she's under the influence _now_.”

Hermione sat back on her haunches, one hand slipping between her legs to touch herself. She bit her lip, keeping her eyes closed so she couldn't see either man, and began flicking a finger over her clit with just a little too much pressure. She just needed to come, then keep her eyes closed, and all would be well.

_Not to mention, I can go back to Grimmauld Place and see if Sirius is still up for a little action. It's all very well to shag one's delicious professor, but I'll be needing sex for at least a few more hours and without the Mating Magic, well, I just don't think he's_ that _much of a nymphomaniac._

“Hermione,” Snape suddenly breathed, his lips grazing her ear. “Lie down on your back.”

Hermione wasn't going to comply – she really wasn't; she was going to ignore him and keep getting herself off – but then she was pushed, manoeuvred and gently settled on her back on the blue bedspread. She kept her eyes resolutely closed.

“It'll be fine if I don't look at you,” she panted, still trying to get at herself with her hands, which for some reason were being pinned to the mattress above her head. “I just... need... oh, fuck! I need to climax before not looking will do me any good!”

She could hear Snape's chuckle, self-imposedly blind as she was, and Malfoy's accompanying laughter. Then a pair of lips – Snape's, she thought, since they felt familiar – fastened around her left nipple. Hermione cried out; Merlin, that felt good! Teeth scraped over her sensitive skin and she arched into the warmth of a mouth on her skin.

“Keep your eyes closed, Hermione, and let me do the rest,” Snape said. “Lucius, hold her hands, and if she opens her eyes, cover them.”

Then Snape's mouth moved downwards, over her ribs and stomach, lingering a second before moving to nip gently at the inside of her thigh. Hermione gasped; she couldn't see a thing, but she could feel everything that much more. A pair of hands – with none of Snape's callouses, so it had to be Malfoy – closed around her wrists, holding them in place, and she could feel soft hair on her skin as a new set of lips landed on her nipple.

“Oh,” she moaned. She spread her legs eagerly as Snape's mouth moved inwards, towards where she needed him. She could feel the faint puffs of air as he held still, breathing in the scent of her, not touching her at all. Then his tongue touched her skin, and Hermione keened with relief.

“Yes!” she cried, her hips bucking against his face. “Oh, sir, yes! More, harder, I need... please, sir, I need you!”

“I know you do, Hermione,” came the reply, and Hermione distinctly heard laughter in his voice again. “Now keep your eyes closed...”

Hermione did. She scrunched her eyes shut, doing her level best not to see anything, and spread her legs wider as Snape's tongue went at her with a vengeance. His teeth scraped lightly against her clit, and then his lips fastened around it and he _sucked_.

Hermione squeaked and her hips bucked. Goodness, he was good!

_Oh,_ sir _! Why waste such a sharp tongue on telling me off when you could be using it for this? Wow! Just wow!_

“Are you close, Miss Granger?” a silky voice enquired, so close to her ear she could feel the heat of his mouth.

“Lucius,” Hermione panted, tasting his name. It felt... decadent. Sinful. “Talk some more. Your voice is almost as sexy as Severus'.”

Malfoy chuckled and nipped her earlobe playfully. “Oh, I'll talk if you wish me to. I must say you're rather more beautiful than I had anticipated. Severus certainly expanded upon your attractive features, but I am ashamed to admit I did not take him seriously. You have indeed developed nicely under those school robes since I last saw you.”

_Yes, well, when you last saw me I was twelve, you old perv. Or was I fourteen? Regardless. Oh fuck yes, Snape! Do it!_

“But I can see he exaggerated neither your beauty nor your... willingness to please an old Death Eater. I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Lucius!” Snape said suddenly, and Hermione whimpered, wanting his lips back on her immediately. “Kindly do not mention such unappealing subjects! Can't you see I'm trying to bring her to orgasm? How do you expect her to retain that willingness if you insist on ruining the mood?”

Hermione giggled in her wanton desperation. The conversation was bizarre, but no more so than the circumstances. Or the Weasley Product that led to all this, for that matter.

_And Snape has been singing my praises to Malfoy! That's almost a little charming. Now bend your hooked nose back to what it does best, dear Professor; we can't be doing with these tedious interruptions. Oooh... yes. Yesss!_

“Severus,” she whimpered, writhing under his licks and touches. Her heels dug into the mattress as she pushed her hips against his face. “Severus, please! So close!”

“Mm,” Snape agreed, thrusting three fingers into her. His nose rubbed hard against her clit.

Hermione gasped, bucking a little more. Malfoy was now nipping a little harder at her earlobe, and then his teeth began worrying the skin on her neck. Eyes still closed, she could feel a hand begin to caress her breast, but at first couldn't determine whether it was Snape or Malfoy.

_Oh, there's no mistaking that aristocratic lack of callouses... It's Malfoy._

“I want you to scream when I make you come, Hermione.”

“Oh,” she whimpered, reacting to Snape's dark voice like a command. She pushed her pelvis against is face insistently; if she could only get a little closer... little harder...

_There._

“Severus!” Hermione cried, writhing in ecstasy under his continuous onslaught. “Oh! Ah, Severus!”

Her entire body was twitching and contracting; her legs trembled and her breath stopped in her throat. Good God! How did he do that? Eyes still rolling under her closed lids, she gasped for breath and shuddered with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Oh...”

“Mm,” Snape purred again, and Hermione felt him slowly pulling his fingers out. There came slick sounds of tongues moving and Hermione was sure he was licking them clean. “Would you like a taste, Lucius? I assure you she's quite delectable.”

Hermione scrunched her face up, trying desperately not to open her eyes. She hadn't looked at them after her orgasm; she wasn't getting aroused yet. There was just the faintest possibility that she would be able to go back to her own room and stay there all day, but then she would first have to find her dressing gown and wand, Apparate, and get to her room without seeing a single (or married, if only the pun hadn't been so lame) man.

Then another tongue began slowly licking through her folds, and she almost squealed.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, trying to sound irritated but unable to stop her sensitive cunt twitching as a delicate tongue traced over her clit. “I... I really should be going.”

_Though I really don't want to. Merlin, would I rather not go! I mean... they're here! Naked! So accessible! And the Mating Magic won't wear off for at least another eight or nine hours, I should imagine, and... and... why the hell am I justifying this? There is absolutely no good reason for me to leave!_

 _... Except, of course, for the fact that they consider me goods to trade and pass around. Oh, and that I ought to stop behaving like a whore. I'm not sure why I should, but I probably should. Oh, and this is_ Malfoy _here. Naked. And someone licking me. Ooh, licking..._

“Mm, she tastes of you, old boy,” said Malfoy's voice, and Hermione could feel it – he was the one licking her. “And just like a young woman is supposed to taste. Delicious.”

Snape snorted. “You should know. Hermione...”

Once more addressed, Hermione bit her lip and resolutely did not open her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

A groan was her reward. “Don't call me sir unless you want me to spank you, Miss Granger. Now... Are you quite certain you need to go?”

_Of course I don't need to, you old bat. I just think I should, because you're starting to take me for granted. Men must never be allowed to do that._

“I think I should. At least I should find Sirius and... apologize for the way I accosted him earlier,” Hermione said, trying not to grin. She tried to imagine the look on Snape's face as he probably scowled at her suggestion. “He's such a sweetheart. You know, _certain_ men don't assume I'll be lying around in their bed all day.”

She heard a sound suspiciously like a snarl, and then Malfoy's tongue – which had paused momentarily – began licking her slowly again. Hermione bit her lip, trying not to gasp as Malfoy's teeth nipped her outer labia gently.

“And you would rather be Black's plaything than mine?” Snape growled, his voice low and dangerous. Had Hermione still been a student of his, she would have worried about House Points at that moment.

_Oh, good-oh, he's angry! Wait... angry Snape? Angry because of another man... jealous?! Oh, wow! He wants to keep me for himself! Why, Professor, I never knew you cared. Well then; time for a little reward, I think!_

“I could say yes and leave, like any Slytherin no doubt would have done, but as it is, I'm going to act like a true Gryffindor and tell you why I _should_ leave,” Hermione stated, grinning and keeping her eyes firmly shut. She wasn't going to give him an advantage. And she grabbed Malfoy's hair and yanked his head form between her thighs, causing him to yelp. She didn't want the distraction.

“You're taking me for granted, Snape. Sharing me because you've got an _excess of the goods on demand_? At least Sirius treats me like I'm human. But I suppose I shouldn't expect anything better from you, seeing as you're such a callous bastard. And Malfoy's just a bigoted aristocrat; his stupidity is excused.”

She heard Malfoy's affronted harrumph and grinned wider. _That's what being a Gryffindor is all about: brutal honesty and a predisposition to verbally abuse Slytherins._ Never mind that she was lying naked on Malfoy's bed; Hermione felt quite in control – as long as she didn't look at either of them and got all horny again.

Hermione waited for an answer, but heard only a soft murmur as Snape apparently communicated something private with Malfoy. Then a sigh followed, and the mattress shifted and she could hear someone leave the room.

“Hermione, look at me,” Snape demanded.

_Oh, great, he's sent our generous host away and is now going to keep his goods all to himself._

“Nope. The Mating Magic is still effective.”

“But I want you to look me in the eyes, Hermione. I want you to see my face when I tell you how much I want you.”

_Wait, what? What kind of talk is this? This isn't the snarky Potions Master I've been shagging on and off for weeks!_

Hesitantly, Hermione opened her eyes, and found herself looking directly into those of Snape. And Merlin, he was as hot as ever! His dark eyes and sharp nose were so appealing; Hermione wanted nothing more than to have him shag her silly for days on end. She felt her stomach clench and moisture – from her previous couplings as well as her own arousal – dampened her pubic hair.

“I've sent Lucius away. I won't share you. I want you, Hermione Granger, and I have no intentions of giving up this... pleasant arrangement between us,” Snape said, his smirk threatening to make another appearance. His eyes glinted darkly. “If you did not want Lucius, you should have said so. Though, I suppose, he _is_ attractive in certain ways...”

Hermione moaned, the sound of his voice alone making her wetter and needier. She grabbed his shoulders, rolled him to his back and straddled him. He looked up at her, confused.

“Hermione?”

“I did want Lucius,” Hermione sighed, rocking her pelvis slowly against Snape's spent cock. “Like I wanted Ron and Sirius. Because of the Mating Magic. You, on the other hand, I've been in bed with several times with absolutely no interference from the stuff. I like this... arrangement.”

_God forbid we call it any sort of relationship, of course!_

“But never... ever...” Hermione raised herself a little above him, just enough for him to insinuate a hand between their bodies. “... call me your _goods_ again. Or consider me property of any other kind. I may allow you to spank me, Professor, but I'm not your personal plaything.”

“Of course not,” he said, and a slight smirk had returned to his lips. “Your nymphomaniac tendencies do not make you an object.”

“No,” Hermione moaned, her head falling back. His hand was working furiously at her clit, and she was _so turned on_! She rocked down on his hand, hands cupping her own breasts, and gasped for breath.

“Sir, please... make me come?”

“With _pleasure_.”

Snape scooted further down the bed until his face was directly below her wetness, then grabbed her hips and pulled her down to his face. When she felt his tongue plunge into her cunt, Hermione screamed under the onslaught of sensation. It was irrelevant whether she wanted him or not; she _needed_ him to ravage her. In every possible way.

“Sir, please,” she whimpered, grinding her hips onto his face. He growled in agreement and his wonderful nose dragged through her folds. “Please, more!”

Riding Snape's face, Hermione soon felt her body teetering on the edge of orgasm and couldn't hold off. She whimpered weakly, her body drained yet aching for more, and gave in as electric jolts rushed through her and her world went blank for a few, blissful moments.

“Severus!”

She collapsed to the bed, eyes closed and breasts heaving with her rapid breaths. Her orgasm still shuddered through her, making her too sensitive and aware of the silk beneath her and the heat of Snape next to her. She shivered as cool air lapped at her cunt when he moved from between her legs.

_What a man. What a body. What an utter sex god! Was I about to be snippy with him for treating me like an object? If this is how he treats objects, he can wrap me in velvet and lock me up in a war chest for the next few decades!_

“Keep your eyes closed, Hermione,” Snape said. His voice was low and rough.

“Why?” Hermione said, about to open said eyes and look at him. She would probably pass out if she had another orgasm, but she didn't really care – she wanted him.

“Because if you're going to behave like this for another six hours – possibly more – then I need some rest.”

A sensation of fabric against skin whispered over Hermione's face, and she opened her eyes only to stare into something black. Touching it, she found it was silk.

“A blindfold, sir?”

“To keep your insatiable needs at bay, Miss Granger. Being the insufferable know-it-all you are, you undoubtedly know that a man can only orgasm so many times without needing a short period of rest. Though my sexual prowess is certainly greater than Black's, even I must succumb to man's nature,” Snape purred in her ear.

“In other words, Snape, you're tired. Fine; I could do with a nap myself. Malfoy won't bother us, will he?” Hermione asked. She trusted Snape; he could blindfold her and tie her to the bed without a stitch on her body, and she would still feel safe in his presence.

_Oh, right, he's already done that on previous occasions. It worked out just fine. It's Malfoy I should be worried about._

“He most certainly will not,” Snape said, and his voice sounded disgruntled. He rolled away from her for a moment, and then he was back – gathering her into his arms. He nipped her neck sharply, then hissed, “Trust me.”

Hermione felt the disturbing sensations of side-along Apparition and frowned underneath her blindfold. Then she felt herself land on something soft; quite similar to the texture of the bed she'd just vacated, only the fabric beneath her felt more like cotton than silk.

_What new witchcraft is this? If I remove this blindfold and find myself surrounded by people, I will put Snape through a slow and painful death – after shredding his balls with a blunt kitchen utensil._

“You're in my house,” Snape explained, his mouth once again close to her ear. “On my bed. That nap does sound appealing.”

Hermione grinned, and felt him pull the covers over them. “And later you'll shag me again?”

“Certainly.”

“And call Malfoy over?”

“Out of the question. I do not share; Lucius is not one to pick up other wizards' left-overs and I will not allow you to be his.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of him shagging you while I watched.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I haven't been interested in such things since my early twenties.”

“Malfoy's memory is incredibly good, then, if he still remembers how your come tastes.”

“Miss Granger!”

“No, Severus, it's Hermione. And I don't care; as long as someone will shag me until the Mating Magic wears off, I'm all set.”

“And you think _I_ objectify you? You do it superbly by yourself.”

“But I'm allowed to. You're not. Now go to sleep, Severus; I'll be expecting your services in a little while. You'll need your strength.”

Snape snorted, his arms coming around her until he was spooned behind her. “Too wise to woo peacefully. But I suppose I won't mind taming this particular shrew.”

Hermione giggled. Ooh, she just loved a man who could make Shakespearian references after shagging her silly. Perhaps she would have to talk to Fred and George one day; see if she could have some more of that gel. Severus wasn't a very heavy sleeper – but she knew where he kept his Dreamless Draughts. He would never know what hit him until it was too late.


End file.
